The Lost One
by BioKraze
Summary: A mysterious disaster leaves Zim and Dib travelling to Irk. What has become of the mighty Irken Empire?
1. The Transmission

Invader Zim_, its concepts and personalities are copyrighted by Nickelodeon/Viacom. I, _BioKraze_, own nothing save the original plot of this fanfiction._

Deep in the heart of Invader Zim's subterranean firebase, the Irken was preparing to send a call to his leaders. The Almighty Tallest would surely be pleased to hear his report on his latest, most diabolical scheme to bring down mankind yet. Zim was positively beaming with pride as he pressed the button to connect him with the Massive's bridge.

The computer beeped once, twice, then displayed an error message on the screen. Zim had never seen this one in his entire life, never thought it possible that it could ever occur. No Irken in the history of the Empire ever got this message, and he didn't know what to make of it. Thankfully, part of his Invader indoctrination had resolved the issue and informed his psyche what the message meant.

_No transmission carrier,_ the error screen stated.

Zim pondered silently. No transmission carrier meant one of two things, neither of which consoled him much. Either the Massive's power core was brought offline for maintenance, or the Massive had been destroyed somehow. Zim chewed his lip thoughtfully and punched up the codes for the Tallest's Palace. The largest structure in Capitalia, and indeed the tallest structure on the face of the Irken homeworld. Surely the twin kings would be receiving messages there, for it had survived the short Invader's devastation of years before relatively unscathed.

Again, the computer beeped twice and reported a lack of a carrier. Zim's eyes widened. This was serious. If the Tallest's Palace wasn't able to receive, then surely something horrible had happened to the mighty Irken Empire. He didn't know exactly what could have occurred, but the amazing Zim was certainly not going to stand by and wait for another Irken to tell him. If he wanted to know what happened, he would have to travel the six month long journey to Irk. Thankfully, the homeworld was merely three day's travel by Spittle Runner from Conventia.

Zim leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He would have to bring some weapons to defend himself, and perhaps even drag his SIR Unit along. A mission like this called for the utmost care in planning and logistics, and Zim couldn't leave things to chance. If he were the last surviving Irken of a galactic calamity, he wanted to ensure that he would continue to survive whatever had defeated the greatest of all Alien empires.

It was at that moment that the intruder alarms rang, their noise almost deafening. Zim scowled and rushed up to the house level. Peering about, he could make out a slight distortion of the space near his television, the door wide open. The never ending battle had begun anew, for nobody but Dib would bother to interfere with the Irken Invader's bids for world conquest. Perhaps, thought Zim, the human would make the perfect companion for this grand adventure. With a snap of his fingers, the insectoid alien pointed to the stealth cloaked human and smirked.

Trying to penetrate my defences again, Dib? Well, I hope you're ready to accept the consequences for your actions!"

Dib snarled. "Forget it, alien scum! You'll never win while I'm around to stop you!" To his great surprise, Zim laughed.

"Oh, foolish earth stink! You're not going to die...yet! Computer! Flash the house!" As Zim closed his eyes, a bright purple flash of light shorted out the expensive stealth field. Dib reeled from the sudden burst of light before he was secured by a host of mechanical tentacles. Zim walked around his captive, speaking almost as if to a good friend.

"Well, well...looks like I have a partner in my mission. Look at the night sky, Dib! It may very well be the last sight of Earth you get to enjoy. You see, I have a little mission to tackle, and having you on Earth, with unrestrained access to my labs, would prove to be a sad mistake." He smiled. "So I've decided to bring you along for the ride." Noting the human's frightened expression, Zim chuckled.

"Don't worry. I'll make sure no harm befalls you unless I'm the one bringing it on. Computer! Keep the human restrained until just before we depart. He will prove useful to the task at hand, and perhaps he will prove himself worthy in the times ahead..." Zim snickered as the bonds holding Dib tightened uncomfortably, and the human paled as the Irken departed for his labs...


	2. The Preparations

The elevator came to a halt before the armoury Zim had constructed years before. When he first built it, the storage room held but few weapons. Mostly a variety of grenades and power clips for the standard issue pulse rifle given to all Irkens who passed the Elite esting. Over the course of two years, Zim's arsenal had grown to include the superweapons given to him by the Plookesians, several ingenious designs of his own, a number of less than legal weapons seizures and other bits and pieces of technology gained from the Vortian prisoner, 777.

Zim strode in and, grabbing a hoversled that rested near the entrance to the armoury, began selecting weapons almost randomly. He knew what would be needed for a scouting mission that could turn violent, and he intended to have might on his side. He took many of his flash grenades and flarebombs, a number of power clips for his heavier pulse cannon, ammo for the stun launcher he planned to pack, some thermal tasers and twelve fusion bombs for the disruption launcher he had managed to obtain through less than licit channels.

He paused, thinking of the hated human. If Dib was to be of any use on the mission, he would have to have some way to defend his worthless stinkbeast flesh. Zim dithered between a enhanced-power laser pistol or a more mundane plasma pistol. He decided at last on the laser pistol, so that he wouldn't have to overload the weak human with countless clips of plasma ammunition.

Moving further into the armoury, Zim selected a suit of light but durable body armour. Developed years ago before Irken-Vortian relations went to hell as a result of Impending Doom II, the body armour was a powered affair, composed of thick battle steel plates which were made lighter by servo motors between the joints. Fully equipped with a pod to protect his Pak, a working atmospheric convertor and a repulsor system, the armour was the most advanced design the Empire possessed. It would provide far better defencive power than his normal deep-space biosuit. He selected a second set of armour, matching the mould of the suit to Dib's frame.

Zim left the armoury and closed the door, the hoversled almost weighed down by the impressive amount of firepower that was but a sliver of the Irken's full arsenal. He looked up, thinking of the six long months that would soon be taking up his entire life. Seeking clues as to what might have felled the mighiest of Alien empires and babysitting what amounted to a mere smeet while he was at it was a task the Irken Invader didn't look forward to.

"Computer! Complete lockdown on the base until further notice." The doors whined with energy, then were sealed shut through stasis coils. In this state, the firebase would last for millennia without harm to its contents. Zim smirked and marched on. He grabbed a pair of area bioscanners from the walls of the equipment hallway as he walked by, then nicked a medipak from a mounting seven feet later. He hummed an ancient Irken battle song as he inventoried the equipment and carted it to the freight elevator he kept for hauling large machinery down to the labs.

Zim only hoped that he would survive the trials ahead to come back to his Earthen home, his labs, his firebase. The chances for success were debatable, but the chances of failure and humiliating death were far greater than the Irken predicted, especially for a task as breathtaking as this...


End file.
